Page 85 of Choke

Would he care?

It’s fine.

It’s not about him.

This is just a precaution.

I head toward the kitchen, where the sounds of life come from, and smell coffee and vanilla. Still in her pajamas, Juliana unloads the dishwasher while quietly humming to herself, her hair piled high in a messy bun. She smiles when she sees me and turns to the espresso machine beside her, switching it on.

“Assume you need a coffee after last night.” She smirks.

I lower myself onto the stool opposite the sink she’s in front of, wincing slightly from the tenderness.

“Please,” I respond, then strain my ears, hearing nothing elsewhere in the house. “Where is…?”

She returns to the dishwasher, grabbing plates and moving them into their cupboards.

“They left first thing for golf. And Lex,” she says, looking at me, “that man is even more delicious in person.”

I blush, tucking my hair behind my ear. He is, he really is.

“Did he say anything?”

She hands me a mug filled to the brim with creamy coffee. Lifting it to my face to breathe it in, I avoid looking at Jules, trying to conceal how disappointed I am that he’s gone. He left without saying goodbye. He told me I couldn’t leave without telling him, but he left.

Was it me?

My stomach twists so violently that I put the coffee down, suddenly feeling nauseous.

Am I not… good?

I’ve never questioned myself like this. This is what he’s doing to me, destroying me little by little.

“I only met him briefly, babe. He said he didn’t want to wake you after being up so late. Speaking of, I could have killed Aleks last night.What the hell was he thinking? He’s lucky the boys didn’t wake up. He would have been a headline, so help me.”

She carries on, oblivious to the war raging in my mind.

He left.

Why do I care?

Juliana catches my attention when she says, “He mentioned leaving you a note in the bedroom.”

My head snaps up, and she smiles at me, fully aware of what I’m feeling. She understands that the absence was tearing me apart inside. Yet, her words make the butterflies in my stomach stir to life again.

No. Stop it. Please don’t like him.

“Oh, okay,” I say, fighting the urge to sprint to the bedroom for the note. Instead, asking, “Can we stop by a pharmacy on our way to the game, please?”

Thankfully, she doesn’t ask why and says, “Sure!”

I sip my coffee, and we make small talk, discussing our plans for the day, mostly centered around taking her oldest son to his baseball game. When she tells me she’s going to shower and get dressed, I slowly return to the bedroom. I scan the room, spotting the folded paper on the nightstand. I unfold the note, scanning the words once. Then twice. My brain refuses to process them. He pulled me into his arms and held me through the night—like I was something… important, precious. This can’t be right.

Be back in Torhaven no later than tomorrow at 8 p.m. A

I crumple the paper, my face burning and a fire raging in my gut. My flight home is booked for Monday. Being home tomorrow night means I’ll need to change my flight and explain to Juliana and Aleks why I’m leaving two days early.

Absolutely not.

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